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Today has been rough. Yesterday was rough. Saturday was Rough. It is pointless to ask why I stick around. My only answer to that is that I love this guy. We keep asking each other, “is that enough?” I don’t know. Is it?

Saturday night we went out to dinner. We let it all out. (well, almost all of it- I’ll get to that.) We took turns crying and ranting, crying and holding on. We sat outside and felt the thick air. It felt good. It was healing. It was very hard to get back in the car and jump back on to our life. We were ready to take it all on again. Re-charged. Confident.

Last night he became distant. Turns out he hasn’t been honest about the length of his relationship with **** or the true nature of it.

They met two days before our youngest was born. Two and a half years ago. The discussed their “gayness” early on, but made a decision to not act on those feelings. I have to give it to them for holding back for almost two years. That’s impressive.

He told me this morning that before I knew about **** he was on the phone with him, and I pulled up next to him in a parking lot. My husband’s secret boyfriend parked next to me. He knew who I was, but I had no idea he existed. I had no idea my husband even had a friend, let alone a “friend”.

He willed it to stay above board so he could keep this guy around. When he was feeling vulnerable he tried to stay away from him, but it never lasted long. Eventually, they decided to introduce the families, under the guise that they recently met at the gym and were just hanging out. After a few months, my husband told me that he had known **** for a few months before I met him. That hurt. But not like the real truth. That he had carefully orchestrated a whole facade so I could let this guy into our home is sickening. They both played ****’s wife and I for chumps.